Harry Marks wrote:I don't think it is possible to process categories of ontology without imposing the subject/object split.
Distinguishing the thinker as subject from the object discussed is logically necessary to the existence of any thought, but does not mean dualism is fundamental. One of my favourite philosophers, Edmund Husserl, wrote a book called
Ideas, in which he makes a close logical analysis of the structural relationships known as noetics, looking at how the object is present within mind.
The subject/object split is just the perceived differentiation between the self and the world, something that begins instinctively from the moment a baby cries. The relevant question for ontology is whether this apparent split produces any intrinsic difference. Traditional dualisms argue for two types of stuff, spiritual and physical. Monism, the view that all is one, holds that all apparent differences are ultimately resolved in the coherent unity of the universe. Just because it ‘seems’ from our personal perspective that mind is different from matter does not make it so.
The classic explanation is in the balance of yin and yang. Perceived dualisms of light and dark, positive and negative, male and female, active and passive, spirit and matter, etc, reflect that these polarities come together in the higher unity of tao, the way of nature. The stable one gives birth to the dynamic two and their relationship in the three.
Harry Marks wrote: Sages explaining non-dualist perspectives usually report that true enlightenment is experienced as a melting away of that split, so that the contemplative one experiences life, the universe and everything as part of the self, and not just vice-versa.
That interpretation, seeing the whole in the part, arises in Blake’s poetic vision of the universe in a grain of sand, but this is by imaginative fractal reflection, like Indra’s Net where every dew drop on the spiderweb reflects the entire universe.
The 'vice-versa' you mention is the observation that our self is part of the world, that our separate identity is better understood through part-whole analysis, as partaking of the larger identities that shape us, like water flowing in a river. But to invert that, and say the whole universe is part of my self, looks more like metaphorical poetry than serious philosophy. Even so, we are stardust, with all our heavy elements born billions of years ago in exploding stars.
Harry Marks wrote: Not having experienced this, I find I can best make sense of it with the perspective of universal consciousness, that our own consciousness is part of some larger awareness, and that we can access that awareness by having "self" be constituted not by its differences from "the outside" but by its independence from the limitations of the differentiated "small" self.
The distinctive conscious self of personal awareness is defined in psychology as the ego or I. Carl Jung held that the real self includes much of which the ego is not aware, and defined this unconscious dimension of the self as the id or it. The id participates in broader currents of identity and is influenced by symbols and emotions that form most of our self like how the submarine part of an iceberg is so much bigger than the visible portion.
Whether the self can ever be “independent” from the limits of the ego in the way envisaged in Buddhism is a difficult question. Buddhism maintains that ego is responsible for the delusional temptation and suffering of attachment, and that enlightenment comes from detachment from the illusions of the ego, seeing the deep unity between the real self and eternal truth. But how can such an enlightened self find motive for action, given the role of ego in motivation? For Christianity, the story of Jesus turning to Jerusalem involves an egoic dimension in the confrontation with evil. Christianity does not share the Buddhist sense that bliss could be achieved through escape from the world.
Harry Marks wrote:
You tend to resist having words change their meaning, so I suspect a claim that self is not "what you thought self was" is inherently repugnant to you.
I don’t think I have ever implied that the concepts of “self” and “self-perceptions” have the same meaning. Perceptions are routinely wrong.
The psychology of personal identity generally recognises that people believe deluded fantasies about who they really are. Religion plays a big part in such fantasy. When people believe that a myth is a literal fact, they buy into a delusion that functions rather like the famous
feet of clay in Daniel’s dream, sapping the stability and integrity of everything built upon it.
Deluded ideology generates the foundations of a false sense of reality and personal identity. Buddhism holds that this basic error (
Maya) at the foundations of false perception is the cause of suffering, rippling through our whole engagement with the world.
Harry Marks wrote: Yet such propositions are essential to the Eastern tradition in which the world is illusion and enlightenment requires seeing literally everything differently.
Your term “world” covers a multitude of sins and meanings. Isaac Newton
held that the ‘centre of the world’ is the fulcrum of the solar system, the barycentric point around which all mass orbits, whose location integrates all the mass of the system. At the other extreme, we find examples like the ‘worlds of hobbies’ where people construct an overtly imaginary framework of meaning.
Newton used ‘world’ to mean objective reality, and defended his view with mathematics, measurement and accurate prediction. More commonly, world refers to the inter-subjective construction of shared meaning, with myths and ideologies producing common dreams and identities in a comforting fantasy, with strong potential for illusion.
In between, we have the concept of world as planet. The recently deceased Ursula Le Guin put this nicely in her story title The Word For World Is Forest, (in German picking up the etymology Wort Welt Wald).
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Word_ ... _Is_Forest
Newton’s usage illustrates that an enlightened concept of world is possible, even if he only partly achieved it. The issue comes up strongly in analysis of Gnosticism, with its critics alleging that Gnostics consider matter to be evil, where a more nuanced reading is that Gnosticism generally saw the constructed world of human illusion to be evil.
People jump/elide from 'world as construction' to 'world as description'. These are very different, reflecting the distinction between descriptive science and constructionist culture. Heidegger’s central idea of Being in the World helps to establish a monist theory of the world, defining ‘worldhood’ as the framework of meaning and care, integrating construction and description.
Harry Marks wrote:The tradition of contemplative Christianity is not so invested in notions of illusion, but its insights consistently point toward seeing "self" as inclusive of the welfare of others.
My view is that Christianity evolved from Buddhism, as Buddhist missionaries sent by Asoka from India established the western monastic tradition from the third century BC. But western culture has some deeply ingrained delusions, such as the false belief that the west is superior to the east, as well exploded by
Bernal in Black Athena. The false ideas of western superiority are grounded in the traditions that put technological conquest and progress at the centre of identity, and these myths of progress have infected some western mysticism as well.
There is however a contemplative tradition within the Bible that focuses strongly on the critique of illusion, with the comments from Jesus condemning hypocrisy, arrogance and stupidity. Perhaps the way the church came to rely so heavily on the deluded beliefs of literal dogma made this line of argument about illusion a sore point, leading to the lack of emphasis that you mention.
Your theme of self as intrinsically with others is reflected in the core idea in the Bible that we should love others and God as we love our self, producing the ethic of compassionate solidarity that is the dream of the kingdom of God.
Harry Marks wrote:
Why should I be interested?" The answer is, for the good, but this is not the Good of obligation, the thing we are supposed to want, but rather the harmony of all things toward which the soul inclines itself naturally, when it is seeking what makes life meaningful at all. And as long as we insist on our self being separated from that harmony, it will be.
Your phrase “the Good of obligation” seems to refer to a sense of moral duty, and to how duty in the imperial traditions is to King and Country, or to Uncle Sam in the republican traditions.
But then your contrast to ‘the harmony of all things’ raises the problem of what we mean by a duty to God. Perhaps the problem is that we tend to limit God to a tribal meaning, interpreting God in national or dogmatic terms and ignoring the deeper meaning of harmony.
The harmony of all things, which is the proper object of duty, is a complex idea for both culture and science. One way to put duty in empirical terms is to recognise how culture is nested in a physical context.
My own study of the physical context of cultural evolution looks at the very slow orbital cycles of light and dark, primarily the twenty thousand year oscillation of glaciation driven by precession that seems to inspire the old cyclic myth of golden and iron ages. Against that framework, the current traumatised state of human psychology, the inability to see any harmony, reflects our position as emerging from the wintry depth of the iron age, seeking redemption after the fall.
Interestingly, these precessional ages are driven by the perihelion date, when earth is closest to the sun.
Now on 4 January, matching the time when days begin to perceptibly lengthen, the perihelion is beginning the ten thousand year ascent to the next golden age. On that model we can expect the insistence on separation from harmony to characterise human culture for a very long time into the future.
People routinely identify productivity and dynamism with individual competition and differentiation, seeing calls for harmony as undermining the clarity of personal identity and purpose. So the idea that the harmony of all things can readily become a driving force in culture or politics looks distant.
Harry Marks wrote:
you have managed to talk yourself into a viewpoint in which dualism rests on projection, so that only "false" distinctions (by the light of objective methods) count as dualism.
Yes, as I explained above in discussing the Taoist themes of Yin and Yang, any perceived duality is nested within a deeper unity, so any argument that makes a dualism fundamental, such as the split between God and the world, is intrinsically wrong.
This dualist error does involve psychological projection, with our desire for distinction between self and world projected into fundamental ontology, wrongly inferring a radical distinction between matter and spirit. A higher vision has to reconcile matter and spirit in a consistent and coherent story about the unified nature of reality.
Harry Marks wrote: While I agree that arguments from revelation for some kind of supernatural authority are specious, that does not negate revelation as a source of insight.
The concept of revelation, in Greek apocalypse, is central to insight and intuition, just in the sense that our intuition reveals information that our conscious reason finds hard to articulate clearly.
With global warming a looming apocalypse, in the sense of planetary catastrophe, the task is to explain whether this ‘revelation’ comes from coherent scientific knowledge or just from a vague hunch, and how intuitions can be clarified. I think it is important to ground opinions in scientific prediction, but generating social traction requires that the data of science be explained in a more popular framework through the language of apocalypse.
Apocalyptic language about climate change is rejected from both sides of the faith/reason divide. Traditional literal religion restricts revelation to divine magic tricks, while science finds the whole notion of intuitive prophecy difficult. A middle path between these extremes of faith and reason could be a way to generate more productive discussion.
Consider the leopard-lion-bear of Revelation 13:1. If such magical mystery Biblical tours reflect deep natural insight, there is the potential to reposition revelation to accord with rational knowledge. I will come back to this example in response to your question about how mythicism is predictive.
The traditional fundamentalist readings of such texts remind me of a line from
Bullwinkle, “Hey Rocky, watch me pull a beast out of my hat!”, due to the farcical literalism that ignores symbolic meaning.
Harry Marks wrote: the fundamental problem with revelations about the supernatural is not their lack of scientific verifiability, but rather their distortion of the subject/object unity in the I/Thou encounter. As long as someone is looking for meaning "out there," in some obligation or other principle that is objectively "the real" meaning, it will not be real meaning.
I have a different line on this problem of the meaning of supernatural claims.
The Memory Code argues that originally most ancient myths were part of initiatory traditions of secret knowledge, held as secret in order to protect the stability across generations. The suppression of these oral initiation traditions that go back tens of thousands of years through the stone age has caused the loss of knowledge of the real meaning of the surviving fragmentary myths.
So for example, the myth in Revelation 22 of the
Tree of Life, described in the Bible as having twelve fruits, one for each month of the year, and growing on both sides of the River of Life, is allegorical symbol for visual observation of the zodiac stars. This image is a precise coded description of the night sky, where the twelve zodiac constellations are on both sides of the celestial river, the Milky Way. My reading is that the forgetting of this real simple objective meaning, with its links to the orderly stability of the visual heavens, has allowed believers to invent all sorts of supernatural meanings for such myths.
The stellar allegory is a meaning that is “out there”, in your phrase, but this meaning has been unacceptable to orthodox literalist dogma. As a result, literal church teachings have severely traumatised human psychology and culture by relying on false interpretations, producing the feet of clay and foundations in sand that today bedevil organised faith. The real origins are lost, even though as in this case they can be fairly easily reconstructed from the fugitive traces hidden in the Bible, were anyone interested.
In this example, the Tree of Life, the objective cosmic meaning is compatible with your use of
Martin Buber’s I and Thou. If the Tree of Life means the zodiac, then the Bible is saying that redemption of the world involves a remembering of this forgotten ancient knowledge of connection between humanity and the cosmos. The framework of astronomy in this light becomes connection and belonging, rather than naming and observation. That is a paradigm shift.
Harry Marks wrote:
the possibility of nuclear war also means we are intrinsically connected in a way we were not before, but the primacy of caring to meaning makes that connection deeper and more fundamental to a meaningful life than recognizing we are all in the same lifeboat.
In Heidegger’s analysis of care, he argued that in anxiety, using the German concept of Angst that is often translated dread, we confront
Being in the World as such, and the possibility of nothingness. Concern about nuclear war certainly picks up on that anxiety as the source of care, as does worry about global warming, seeing recognition of the possibility of human extinction as the framework for authentic meaning.
Harry Marks wrote:Apocalypse just means revelation, and I have seen it with my own eyes. Not only the brown haze of Los Angeles,
Now you are being flippant. In modern usage, there is a big distinction between apocalypse as global catastrophe and revelation as finding out facts. The revelation of smog is bad for health, but it is nothing like the four horsemen of plague, war, famine and death.
Harry Marks wrote:
Pittsburgh was Hell at the height of the wartime expansion: 1969. I don't have any trouble imagining the air of Delhi or Beijing today, because I saw it before the government got its act together and did something about it. That was "transformation."
Not wanting to diminish the importance of clean air, there is something far more dire about apocalyptic transformation. Elements of the prevailing paradigm of reality are on a trajectory toward extinction, and have to be identified and reversed in order to prevent catastrophe. The real apocalyptic problem of global warming is that sea level rise, mega-storms, mass extinction, acidification, drought and ocean stratification could combine to cause a repeat of the Permian Great Dying of 252 million years ago when almost all life went extinct and things had to start again. By that standard smog doesn’t rise to the horse’s shoe, let alone its bridle.
Harry Marks wrote:So what is wrong with government borrowing from its people to invest for the public good? I do not see any moral issue in government debt per se. If it isn't really for the public good, that could be a moral issue. If you owe it to others, that could be a practical issue. But the idea that there is something immoral about passing debt on to one's progeny, if the debt was used to also create something good that is also being passed on, is opaque to me. I can't see anything meaningful in it.
The question is whether government debt is being incurred for productive investment or for unproductive consumption. If debt is mainly for consumption, as appears largely the case, debt brings major risk, arising from the perverse incentive that those who benefit from the debt will not have to repay it, and the moral hazard that incurring such unproductive debt actively undermines the capacity of the economy.
Harry Marks wrote:
spiritual matters are not abstract and philosophical but electric and energizing.
That sense of the electric energy in spirit is a really important observation in terms of the vitality of faith. A sense of living spiritual presence and charisma shows the intimate connection between spirit and inspiration. Any ideas that inspire are thereby spiritual, showing how the spiritual has a wider remit than religion.
Even where our spiritual concerns touch on large abstract ideas, they inspire when they produce shared sense of direction, meaning and purpose, generating traction and engagement through a perception of relevance.
Harry Marks wrote: The intellectualism of the church in the Enlightenment did serious damage to the pietism and other authentic spirituality that was abroad among the people before that. It quenched the spirit, as Paul would have said.
This problem of the role of abstract theology in religion is a big one. The easy temptation is to take religious ideas like grace, love and God as empirical claims subject to testing, but such an attitude, ignoring their spiritual comfort, does not pick up on either the psychology or the real meaning of these abstract terms.
Nietzsche suggested the effort to prove the existence of God through theology was the main cause of the death of God in culture.
Newton, as the real founder of the Enlightenment, was able to hold together the Gnostic tension between the deist clockwork God of astronomical order and the spiritual God of fervent prayer, but such talent is the product of rare genius. It is very hard to explain or replicate such Newtonian melding of heart and head. One or the other is invariably diminished, leading to incoherent and unbalanced views.
Harry Marks wrote:
It is easy to see the "for others" in the Marthas, who toil away to see that the work goes forward. But those who sit at the feet of the Master need to see that it is "for others", and if they cannot deliver the insights to other seekers, they need to study harder.
This
story of Martha and Mary makes me think of the debate over salvation by faith or works. The ordinary tendency is to see works of mercy as performed by Martha as the only practical help. If we think of faith as meaning ‘strategic direction’, then it becomes apparent that unless good works are placed in a coherent vision they are of no avail.
In this story from Luke, the strategic direction that Mary obtains from sitting like Isis to shoot the breeze with Jesus gives her an inspiring vision of faith that would have been missed if she joined Martha in doing the dishes instead as a work of service.
Looking at modern examples, in climate change no amount of “works” such as use of renewables will replace the “faith” involved in a strategic shift of global paradigm to remove the dangerous carbon that humans have added to the air.
The most egregious example of ‘salvation by works’ is the Marxist ‘labor theory of value’ which asserts that work has intrinsic value in itself rather than just in terms of what people are willing to pay for it.
Harry Marks wrote:
given that a person like yourself, actually doing something about the climate issue, is simultaneously denying the role of markets in balancing external costs against benefits, apparently just because externalities by definition require public recognition and charging for those costs, I would say yes, we need some discussion about high concepts.
Markets work to solve normal problems, not in emergencies. The climate situation is an emergency, requiring immediate removal of dangerous carbon from the air. The pretence that market solutions could stop global warming is a bit like suggesting to the Poles in 1939 that they could stop Hitler by reforming their tax code.